


Daybreak

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bad Ending, Blood, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death, Endgame, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 14:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13572561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Ignis deals with the inevitable ending to the prophecy.





	Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [“N-N-Noct? Are you-?”](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/355329) by Jaffy, @stuck-in-ffxv-hell on Tumblr. 



They burst into the throne room, throats raw and bodies burning from the effort of the fight.  The daemons had just kept coming until they finally, suddenly, vanished. At that, the three of them had stopped - Gladio and Prompto looking at one another and at Ignis, and Ignis listening carefully, until the three had turned as one and dashed toward the massive doors.  

Their boots rang loud in the quiet room. Ignis heard Gladio catch his breath in a sob first, and then a horrified whine escaped from Prompto.   
  
Ignis placed a gloved hand on Gladio’s forearm. Hoping against prophecy that the vision had been wrong, that somehow Noct had been able to thwart fate.  When he felt the shield tremble and his body heave, Ignis knew that wasn’t the case.   
  
The scene played before his mind again, of the sword driving into Noctis’ chest, and it seared him. The pain was worse than anything he’d felt since the Kings of Lucis had burned his eyes, exacting their price for his attempt to save Noctis.   
  
He’d failed. Noctis had won, but Ignis had lost.  He felt the muscles in his knees threaten to let go.  He set his chin, steeled himself for the last task he would ever be able to perform for his liege, and started toward the steps.   
  
“Iggy-”  
  
“You can’t -”  
  
“ _Let me do this_.”  His voice was broken and seeped pain as he dipped his head and shoved the words at them through his teeth. Prompto and Gladio quieted, and Ignis forced his feet toward the throne. The coppery smell of blood mixed with the scent of crushed stone in the room as he grew closer. He reached out.  
  
“N-N-Noct.  Are you -?”  
  
He knew there would be no answer.    
  
Hot, salty tears forced their way out of his eyes. Ignis touched the sword still protruding from the throne, and from the king who sat on it.  Gloved fingers haltingly traced up the blade to find their way to Noctis’ shoulder. Ignis pressed his forehead to Noct’s, and the familiar scent of him overwhelmed Ignis. He was still warm. A sharp sob forced its way out of Ignis’ throat, and he pressed a kiss to Noctis’ forehead, smoothed his hair, and stepped back.   
  
His chest knotted hard as he grasped the hilt again, and another cry tore through him as he ripped it back.  Gladio’s hand at his elbow and Prompto’s sniffle told him they’d followed, and he let Gladio take the sword from him.  Ignis enveloped Noctis in his arms and eased him to the floor, still holding him. Gladio and Prompto came in close, no longer even trying to quiet the sounds of their grief. Even now, Ignis could feel Noctis’ body begin to grow cold. The awful knowledge of what had happened assaulted his mind afresh every second, and he keened in agony.  
  
The throne room echoed, and Ignis felt the morning sun stream through the ruined building and onto his face. In that moment, he hated it for what it had cost.


End file.
